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<title>You Might Think He Loves You for Your Money but I Know What He Really Loves You for It’s Your Brand New Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat by perhapsMama</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540670">You Might Think He Loves You for Your Money but I Know What He Really Loves You for It’s Your Brand New Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsMama/pseuds/perhapsMama'>perhapsMama</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Comfort, F/M, decomposition, literal dead man walking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:48:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/perhapsMama/pseuds/perhapsMama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel really needs a break. You're more than happy to relieve him of some of that pent-up pressure-- if only for a few hours. </p><p>(Sort of in the same setting as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274214/chapters/48058846">Long in The Tooth, Short in The Hair</a> or whatever.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thanx 2 death grips for the title</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A day and a half after your last Talon mission were spent moping around the safe house, waiting for transport to pick you and your teammates up to fly you back to Rialto. Due to heavy air traffic, not to mention some increased security in the city you recently raided, the dropship didn’t want to take any chances by picking you all up when there was a lockdown, leaving you to lope around Castillo while you waited to be scooped back up to take you to the main base.</p>
<p>However, tonight was different.</p>
<p>You were approached by one of your colleagues to go out drinking, to which you happily obliged. You needed the break from all the running around, dodging Moira at every turn from another one of her surprise physicals.</p>
<p>What you didn’t expect was to be accompanied by one of Talon’s head honchos. The Reaper himself.</p>
<p>You suppose it was only natural. Sombra was always fascinated by you. Whether it was because you were from an entirely different era or the fact that you by far one of the ”safest” agents of Talon simply because you had no family or ties to any big companies, you weren’t sure. Though, it really should have been something for her to keep her distance from. Maybe you were some sort of human shield for her. Simply just a lone tree with very little roots to plant yourself with. It was a depressing thought, but it was a pretty genius plan for her. Being a scapegoat for her wasn’t your first thought of becoming her friend, but in a world full of hatred and sharp objects being stabbed into your body, you were willing to take whatever small comfort you could get.</p>
<p>Looking up at Gabriel as you walked through the centre of town, you quietly scoff as you shook your head. “You should really take that mask off when we’re out in public. People are going to think we’re a bunch of hooligans running amok,” you lightly jab.</p>
<p>“I don’t need you telling me what to do,” he growls, turning towards you sharply.</p>
<p>Rolling your eyes, you’re hardly fazed by his aggressiveness. ”Yeah, yeah, I know that’s your job.”</p>
<p>Sombra butts in between you two, shoving you both away from each other. “God, will you two shut up? This is the last time I’m taking either of you to Calaveras. You’re too old and cynical to hang around,” she groans, crossing her arms.</p>
<p>“The only reason why I’m even going with you two is to get some intel on someone. This is his last known location,” Gabriel replies, looking up at the worn sign that hung above the door.</p>
<p>You huff, lightly laughing as you shake your head, “don’t you live an exciting life,” you mutter. “Seriously, you’re not even going to have one drink? You seem like the guy who likes straight-up whiskey. Or even Tequila.”</p>
<p>He clenches his fists. “I’m not drinking tonight.”</p>
<p>You raise a brow at this and smile, feeling a spark of curiosity for your enigmatic commander. “Oh? So <em>when</em> are you going to drink, Gabriel?”</p>
<p>“Not with you two, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>Frowning, you pout at him and place a hand on your chest in mock hurt. “You’re breaking my heart, Gabe. You won’t even have a simple drink with one of your elders? Have you any morals, boy?”</p>
<p>He turns to you sharply, making a motion to grab at you, before being deflected by Sombra. “I could kill you for saying that,” his voice rose, just beneath a growl.</p>
<p>“And have Moira disintegrate your organs for harming her most successful experiment?” This gives him some pause, then he lowers his gloved hand. “That’s what I thought,” you simper, feeling rather pleased with yourself.</p>
<p>As soon as the three of you enter, the surly-looking bartender speaks up, pointing to a sign written in Spanish. “No masks allowed in the bar,” he grumbles. Gabriel hesitates for a second, before sliding his mask off. “What’ll it be?” he asks as he wiped an area of the bar off.</p>
<p>Sombra speaks up first. “The usual,” she replies easily. You quickly say your order, tacking on a 'please and thank you' near the end.</p>
<p>“...Whiskey, and leave the bottle,” Gabriel mumbles, to which you elbow him roughly. “Please,” he adds.</p>
<p>Once the three of you have your drinks in hand, Sombra seems to have disappeared as soon as she has her mezcal. No worries, she was probably scoping back the place, see if there was anyone she could manipulate or start an argument with...</p>
<p>After throwing back your drink, you turn to Gabriel with renewed interest. ”So, you mind telling me about what happened between you and the good doctor?”</p>
<p>”Which part?” He turns to you, tilting his head.</p>
<p>You take a moment to gaze up at him. The entire left side of his face is scarred, pulling at some parts of his skin, and tightening around his eye, making it appear slightly narrower. His facial hair is grown out, thicker on his right side, but patchy along the left. The left side of his mouth is downturned due to the scar tissue around the area, and you see there’s a deep groove in the corner of it. He’s not bad looking by any means. In fact, you glanced at a few pictures of him when he was younger while you were poking through Moira’s things. He’s actually sort of handsome despite the severe scarring. Curly brown hairs seem to be peeking from beneath his hood, resting upon his forehead. Cute. He never had the chance to groom himself yet.</p>
<p>Shrugging, you lean forward on the bar as you gaze down at your drink, idly sloshing the liquid around inside it. ”I don’t know, how you always seem to be cringing. It’s like you’re constipated. I don’t blame you for being so grouchy all the time,” you laugh dryly.</p>
<p>”She experimented on me as well. Whether it was a success or not... I’m not sure,” he furrows his brows, then takes another sip from his bottle.</p>
<p>”And the whole,” you motion to the left side of your face. ”Y’know.”</p>
<p>”Explosion. I died that day.”</p>
<p>Your stomach drops, and you feel a bit of pity for him. ”Yikes. You have every right to be pissed off.”</p>
<p>Downing the last of your drink with a groan, you turn to him with a small smile. ”I guess that makes the two of us, huh? Two people that should’ve died, but didn’t. Now, we gotta deal with the consequences,” you sigh, slumping back.</p>
<p>”Why don’t you go by Gabriel anymore?”</p>
<p>”That’s not who I am,” he says, clutching the bottle with a death grip. You’re almost afraid it might shatter under his grasp.</p>
<p>Your eyes dart up to him and you shake your head with a frown. ”Quit pitying yourself. Listen, There’s no use in trying to separate your identity into two parts. Who you are now is not just a nameless entity that goes around killing people. You’re a real person with thoughts, feelings, emotions. I’d even go as far as to say that you have friends.”</p>
<p>”I’m not... Real.” He slurs toward the end, you can see he’s already downed half the bottle. Prying it from his grip, you pour some of it into your glass.</p>
<p>”Does it really matter anymore? Overwatch, Talon, your past,” you pause to take a sip, sighing as it burned your throat. ”It’s all gone now. In time, it will cease to exist and will no longer be a memory for you. We’re here. We have to deal with it and shape our world to how we want it.”</p>
<p>”I’ve been dead for years. Existence is pain, I no longer feel as though I should be alive. The only thing keeping me alive is seeing the downfall of those agents,” Gabriel slumps onto the bar, holding his face in his hands.</p>
<p>”Save the edgy shtick for the forums, pal. We all have a purpose, a drive to keep living. Once you’re done collecting those Overwatch heads, it’s not going to fix things. It won’t give you any closure. You’re just going to find another thing to <em>take care of</em> or fix. That’s human nature.”</p>
<p>”I’m not a human.”</p>
<p>”Shut up,” you reply with an acid tone. ”There’s a heart still rattling around in that trunk of yours. Cold, dead, and shrivelled up, but I’m sure Moira could pump some of that healing-pee-juice into it and make it beat again,” you poke the middle of his chest, and you swear for a moment you see the very beginnings of a smile cross his gnarled lips.</p>
<p>”You’re being ridiculous,” he smiles, and it’s genuine. Strangely enough, you feel your stomach flutter at the sight.</p>
<p>”And so are you with that hormonal teenage attitude of yours. A little optimism won’t kill you. Chin up, Gabriel. It’s dark for now, but you’re bound to see some light in due time,” you give his bicep a comforting pat, then a soft squeeze. ”It’s hard to keep going, and you want to give up and let that mindset take over you, but I managed to just stop caring about what I was doing, where I was going in life and just going with the flow. I started doing things I enjoyed. Really helped me through the dark times, especially in my sixties.”</p>
<p>”Why are you doing this?” He suddenly asks.</p>
<p>”Doing what?”</p>
<p>”Talking to me. You’re treating me as if I haven’t murdered someone yesterday,” he clenches his jaw for a moment, and for a split second, you think he’s going to deck you. ”Why?”</p>
<p>You breathe a momentary sigh of relief. “Hey, you meet so many people in your life, they hardly faze you anymore,” you shrug, smirking up at him. “That’s apart of growing up. You tend to brush things off that would normally upset you, or make you angry. Like Maya Angelou said, ’We are all human; therefore nothing human can be alien to us’.” A pleasant thought of one of her poems drifts into your mind, and you have to remember to let Gabriel borrow your copy of her book. “You deserve to be treated like a person, not as some ghost or monster.”</p>
<p>He chugs the rest of his bottle in one swift motion, then set it down with a loud thud, drawing the attention of a few other patrons. After a moment of deliberation, he leans against you, and he surprisingly feels light.</p>
<p>However, when you turn towards him, the sight that greets you is more than unsettling.</p>
<p>Parts of his skin are dissipating into the air, and when he reaches over to place his hand on your lap, a few of his fingers burst into smoke, revealing bits of bone and muscle beneath. It takes all of your courage not to choke on your drink.</p>
<p>”Keep it together, man,” you hiss, and he groans as his skin sizzles and returns to a semi-normal state covering up the bone beneath. The bartender gives the two of you a pointed look before rolling his eyes, thinking the two of you were busy smoking despite the signs saying not to.</p>
<p>Patting his back, you flinch as you feel his skin bend under the pressure of your hand, causing his hoodie to dip and curve inward. “You’re alright, bud,” you gently tell him before standing up from your seat. “You wanna get out of here?”</p>
<p>Looking down at you, he gives a single nod. “‘Kay, let’s go.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite your swimming head and your wobbling legs, you manage to drag him back to your shared hideout. Surprisingly enough, Gabriel is pretty light, considering the fact that he can barely control his body’s decomposition rate. It’s easy to grab him by the hood and steer him in the right direction.</p><p>When you get him to his quarters, you feel as though you’re trespassing. It’s a blend of blacks and greys that mesh together into a bleak setting. Burnt pictures are on the nightstand next to a few empty liquor bottles. It’s sparsely decorated but still screams <em>Gabriel</em>. As you lower him into bed, you spot a few magazines tucked into his mattress. Yanking them out, you’re greeted with the sight of a scantily-clad woman in front of the Sports Illustrated logo, along with Steve Nash and Dwight Howard with their mouths hanging open on the other issue. You feel a small pang of sadness for the last shred of humanity that remained inside of him.</p><p>As soon as you’re finished stuffing the two issues back underneath his mattress, he grabs your hand just as you’re about to leave.</p><p>”Stay,” he says, but it’s more of a request rather than a demand. You’re sure if you shook off his grip he wouldn’t object.</p><p>But... You can’t seem to find the effort to leave.</p><p>Sitting on his bed, you look over at him. His skin bubbles and becomes hazy, almost disappearing right before your eyes.</p><p>”Are you okay?” You ask, patting at the space where his hand would be.</p><p>”Fine,” he manages to force out, before rebuilding himself. His face is twisted into a grimace, and it looks as though he might yell.</p><p>”Does it hurt?”</p><p>”Sometimes.”</p><p>”I’m sorry.”</p><p>”Don’t... be,” he breathes, his hand materializing to grab onto yours. It’s clammy and cold, yet still strong despite his current state. ”I did this to myself.”</p><p>You can’t help but snort, shaking your head. ”If you haven’t heard, I believe this was due to a certain scientist-- no, <em>geneticist</em>. It’s not your fault, Gabriel.”</p><p>”I wanted to be stronger than I already was. She-- she didn’t listen to my pleas,” Gabriel squeezes his eyes shut. ”Besides, this was what I originally wanted: to be unkillable.”</p><p>”You went through all that trouble so you could whine about it?” You sass, earning a sharp glare from him. ”Sorry, sorry, but you sort of asked for it. This existence, this being ’your curse’, you, Moira, and that program had a hand in this. I just wish she was a tad merciful and more lenient when it came to experiments that messed with people in this sort of way,” you shrug. ”She’s even been wanting to replicate the same thing with me, but apparently it’s too risky to even try out. She says my body’s been under enough stress as it is.” Breathing out a sigh, you try your best to push back those awful memories in which she treated you as if you were just a guinea pig to her.</p><p>Those thoughts disappear once you feel his sweaty palm on top of yours. Looking over at him, you can’t help but snort.</p><p>”What is this, high school?” you joke, feeling a shiver tingle up your spine as he kissed the inside of your wrist. He says nothing in response, choosing to hum lowly against your skin.</p><p>As much as you’d like to see what he’d do, you pull your hand away, setting it back down on the mattress. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you reason, scooting away from him for good measure.</p><p>He sits up, reaching over for you, grabbing your forearm. “I do, I want to. Do you want to?”</p><p>“That’s a loaded question, don’t you think?” you retort, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms. ”You’re drunk right now. Maybe you should sleep it off before coming to the conclusion of whether or not you want to sleep with me.”</p><p>”But I want to,” he makes a point to grab your hand, placing it right on top of the front of his pants. ”So bad,” he rolls his hips into your palm, and you can feel through his jeans he’s still limp.</p><p>”You’re not even hard,” you yank your hand away, laughing at his drunken forwardness. Any other time, you’d indulge him, but... This wasn’t right. It was just the liquor talking. He didn’t actually want you like that, did he?</p><p>”Go to bed.”</p><p>With a muted groan, he rolls his eyes and tosses himself to his other side, ”g’night.”</p><p>Standing up from his bed, you go over to the ratty old couch situated across his room. You’re far too tired and wasted to go crawling back to your room and besides, he wouldn’t mind you sleeping over.</p><p>Despite his heavy snoring, you lay your head down to rest, drifting off into a dreamless slumber</p>
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